


And Who But My Lady Greensleeves

by Andante825



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Relationships, F/M, HEA, Humor, Rare Pairings, no bestiality, original magical creature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 14:00:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13055418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andante825/pseuds/Andante825
Summary: Trevor, a Radiant Toad, has set his sights on the most alluring creature he's ever seen: Dolores Umbridge.





	And Who But My Lady Greensleeves

She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

His wizard companion, still reeking of whatever foul excretion his fancy new plant had spewed all over his robes, was half-slumped in his seat. The whole glorious summer had been spent roaming the Longbottom ancestral grounds, making even the Great Hall feel stale and confined.

Her voice droned on, reminiscent of the dying buzz of a juicy bluebottle. Her eyes bulged seductively.

The black velvet bow on her head trembled: the first tender moth of a moonless night.

Trevor couldn’t see much, stuck feet-first in Neville’s vest pocket like a cork in a flask. But he saw enough.

By the end of the school year – if not sooner – the heart of this dark, bewarted enchantress would be his.

***

Trevor was, of course, a magical beast. Uncle Algie, still racked with guilt after drunkenly dropping his young nephew out a window, had sent away to Madagascar for a Radiant Toad as a surprise for Neville’s first day at Hogwarts.

When they’d boarded the train and his companion wound up miserably alone, Trevor scarpered, forcing Neville to seek aid and thus make friends. Overcoming his nervousness to approach Hermione in the first place was an act requiring just enough bravery to shift his alignment from Hufflepuff to Gryffindor, thereby meeting the dearest wish of his heart: to live up to his parents’ legacy by proving worthy of their old House.

Vanquishing Neville’s fears and foes was Trevor’s reason for being, but even he was hard-pressed to go up against Severus Snape. The best he could do was tag along to lessons, radiating bravery and determination from Neville’s pocket.

(On one daring occasion two years prior, Trevor managed to sneak a retaliatory piss all over Snape’s chair. At the very next lesson, the oily bastard threatened to poison him, but hearing him screech like a wet Kneazle as the cold and noxious liquid seeped through his robes made it well worth the risk.)

Like all of his illustrious species, Trevor was a natural healer. The chemicals secreted from his pores were prized as magical pain relievers, renowned for promoting resistance to the Cruciatus Curse. (In the dark January days following Bellatrix Lestrange’s escape from Azkaban, Neville spent hours at a time curled up in an overstuffed chair, his loyal familiar by his side. During those lonely hours, Trevor rested the delicate toes of one forepaw on his wizard’s arm, taking away what fear and pain he could.) At every visit to St. Mungo’s, Trevor was there, radiating calm.

In short, he was a prince among toads. Why should he not set his sights high? Why should he not court, and win, the love of a human whose countenance he found more pleasing than that of any amphibian of his acquaintance?

***

Trevor observed Umbridge for several months, quickly determining that his only possible rival was Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge, a wizard with no slight resemblance to a toad himself. Fudge’s obvious lack of romantic interest in his subordinate was a relief, if completely inexplicable.

The lovelorn Trevor hitched a ride with Peeves, who was most accommodating to the familiars of Hogwarts (a secret that amused the Headmaster to no end), and squirmed easily under Umbridge’s office door.

At his first glimpse of her office decorations, Trevor’s eyes somehow widened.

The walls were hung with stalking, leaping images of the apex predator _Felis catus_. What a courageous beauty, to surround herself with carnivores! The ferocious beasties prowled from plate to plate, tails thrashing, and Trevor couldn’t help but shudder.

A tea set (most hospitable) was set up on a nearby cart. His sensitive pores picked up traces of Veritaserum, and the only logical conclusion was that his love dosed herself regularly. To build up a tolerance, perhaps … or else to ensure the strictest honesty with herself, even in private. Trevor’s admiration grew. How to make this dazzling creature understand the depth of his regard?

When he croaked, it sounded like “Eureka.”

Back under the door he wriggled, and hopped full-bore toward the library. He knew just the tome to transfigure his longings into reality.

***

“Someone’s left this bloody book lying out again,” said Hermione Granger. Her own familiar had reached an uneasy accord with Trevor, although the toad kept a wary eye on it just in case. Cats were tricky at the best of times.

“Crookshanks – bad Crookshanks! Don’t, you’ll scratch the cover!”

She moved the book away from her cat’s questing paw.

“ _Shapeshifting and the Invention of the Human: Mastering the Homomagus Form_ ,” she read, and flipped open the back cover. “No one’s checked this out in two hundred years. Who keeps leaving it here?”

Trevor croaked innocently.

***

A month passed before he was able to cast the spell.

Although his anatomy was ill-suited to wandwork, Trevor was not a Radiant Toad for nothing. His gleanings from _Mastering the Homomagus Form_ led him to think that if he placed all four feet on Neville’s wand and thought the incantation very hard, the spell would work well enough to at least grow some opposable thumbs.

The spell worked perfectly first try, proof that he was pure of heart.

He’d waited until all the Gryffindor boys were asleep before borrowing Neville’s wand, log-rolling it to the loo, and casting while staring at his usual form in the mirror. The sight of his abdomen suddenly shooting out a good three feet, the sensation of wormlike hair sprouting from his head, and the bizarre spectacle of a smush-eyed head on a stalk might have convinced a lesser toad that his was a doomed love.

The transformation finally done with, Trevor evaluated himself fairly. His eyes, now twilight blue, were far too close together; his peripheral vision was shite. Standing roughly six and a half feet off the ground made him feel like a sapling about to blow over. There was far too much yellow hair on his head, and his cheekbones and jawline were frighteningly defined. His arms and legs bulged like snakes that had just eaten.

And talking of snakes ... there appeared to be a dead one glued to his undercarriage.

“She’ll never want me like this,” he murmured sadly. His voice sounded a bit like the hated Potions Master’s: sultry and terrifying, tinged with bitterness that lingered on the palate.

With a pop, Trevor reverted to his natural form. He wriggled back under the door, leaving a small disgusting puddle for Seamus to slip in at 6 a.m. (nearly braining himself on the sink). The bathroom was silent and stale once more.

“Bloody magic,” said the mirror, mournfully.

***

So Plan A was a flop. Trevor spent several nights in the library, evading Mrs. Norris (on whom, in a pinch, he could always set Peeves) and searching desperately for some way to plausibly win Dolores Umbridge’s heart and get started on a large family.

 _A large, hoppy family_ , he thought to himself, and croaked laughter. It came out sounding slightly unhinged.

“A’right, Trevor?” Neville said sleepily. “’At’s a good toad, then.”

Trevor felt a stomach-plunging sense of guilt. He’d left Neville alone when he should have been putting in overtime, warding off nightmares and reinforcing his Cruciatus resistance. Had he become selfish in his months-long pursuit of a single-minded, overwhelming obsession?

Anything was possible, he supposed.

Becoming human was a bust, but perhaps he could go at it the other way round. Judging by her appearance, the odds were at least one in three that Umbridge had unknowingly begun life as a toad, and her reversion to a friendlier form would make her smile again. She hadn’t been smiling much lately, although she had been showing her teeth like a crabby horse and looking rather strained around the eye area. Perhaps it was the burden of humanity.

His plans stalled during the winter break, as he prepared both himself and Neville for their Christmas visit to St. Mungo’s. His companion’s classmates were most fortunate that Trevor found no fault in their attitude. Had they managed to hurt Neville’s feelings, his vengeance would have been swift and terrible.

In early February, while sitting with Neville in the Gryffindor common room, Trevor overheard two wizards yammering about Valentine’s Day and realized his opportunity. His repulsive human form had one advantage: the ability to brew potions. He’d listened carefully to four and a half years’ worth of brewing instructions, trying to anticipate when the cauldron was due to explode, and could have sat the O.W.L. himself.

The wards in Severus Snape’s storeroom were set against students, werewolves, all transformed Animagi, Hagrid for some reason, insects, birds, reptiles, and mammals … but not toads.

***

“Minerva,” Umbridge said sweetly. “Would you care for some tea?”

“No, thank you, Dolores,” replied Professor McGonagall. “I’m here to discuss your use of Blood Quills on students, a barbaric and illegal practise that –”

“—is allowed by special dispensation from the Minister himself,” Umbridge finished, pouring herself a cuppa. The steam billowed up, and if either woman had happened to complete a Potions mastery, she might have noticed a faint acidic note that didn’t belong.

“The Headmaster has already been informed, so you can’t run to him,” she continued. “Discipline at Hogwarts is sadly lacking, and sometimes one must over-correct in order to keep to the straight and narrow path in future. Don’t you agree, Minerva?”

“I most certainly do not,” McGonagall said, glaring at the kitten plates. “If the Headmaster’s hands are tied, I’m not above taking this to the International Confederation of –”

Umbridge took her first sip of tea, and all hell broke loose.

The cup fell to the floor and shattered, embedding splinters of bone china all through the rug. Dolores Umbridge dwindled, her features changing not so very much. Her clothes appeared to stand by themselves, one sleeve raised as though still holding the cup, before collapsing in a fluffy pink heap.

A furious croak emitted from the skirtal region. With a slither of undergarments, Umbridge-Toad appeared, poking her head over the waistband. There were two dark prominent warts just behind her eyes, set side by side. They very much resembled a black velvet bow.

It was indeed fortunate, Trevor reflected later, that Minerva McGonagall had refused the tea. She would have reverted to her most sympathetic animal – almost certainly her Animagus form – and more than likely taken the excuse to break Dolores Umbridge’s neck.

It was also fortunate that Minerva left immediately to seek out the Headmaster, rather than attempting to help Umbridge-Toad in any way.

Emerging from a shadowy corner, Trevor made his move.

***

“That was really too sweet of you, going out in this weather,” said Umbridge-Toad, now fondly known as Dolores. “How did you know these were my favourite?”

“I pay attention,” Trevor said (looking a bit smug, but Dolores kindly ignored this). “And I’m quite fond of them myself. Hard to beat good old Honeydukes clusters, although there is a small shop in London that sells your more exotic flavours. Giant cockroaches from Trinidad, that sort of thing. All ethically sourced, of course.”

He neglected to mention that he’d taken a secret passage, assumed his human form in the cellar of Honeydukes, and paid for the Cockroach Clusters with a dusty Galleon he’d found in the library stacks. Let her think he’d ventured out in the chill March air, hopping all the way to Hogsmeade and back just to present her with a delicious indulgence.

After all, he’d gone to rather a lot of trouble to reach this point: squatting blissfully with his lady love, eating Cockroach Clusters in a well-hidden alcove just under a torch on the seventh floor. It wasn’t the Room of Requirement – he’d been there many times with Neville, of course, and was saving its reveal for a special day – but still, it was the perfect spot for two amphibians who didn’t mind squeezing in a bit.

Dolores sighed, then croaked a belch. “Trevor, darling, I – I want to tell you something. I’ve never been so happy in all my life as I’ve been these past few weeks.” She waved a crooked foreleg expressively. “I see them running about like ants – all the humans, you know, with their oh-so-very important little lives – and I think, that really used to be me. I cared so much about things that don’t matter a whit.” She nudged his side affectionately. “I honestly wonder, where did I think I was going to end up? Minister for Magic? Not bloody likely. Rotting in Azkaban, I shouldn’t be surprised. And now things seem so simple. I have a cosy nook, my Cockroach Clusters, and thou. I am content.”

He would confess to her, and she would take some time to forgive him. Being truly happy in her new form would smooth the way. And someday, Hagrid would be walking along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, looking for a female hippogriff to visit Sirius Black, who’d moved out to a country estate with his godson and requested a spirited companion for Buckbeak. The half-giant would pause at the portable swamp, now permanent, that had been set up by the famous Weasley Twins on their graduation day. He would observe a pair of Radiant Toads, or rather one Radiant Toad and one rather plainer, with the shine in her eyes of a much-beloved woman. Their frogspawn would be the healthiest stock in the swamp, with several radiant offspring growing up to seek witch and wizard companions of their own.

And this was the home of Trevor and Dolores, the happiest creatures at Hogwarts. 

**Author's Note:**

> Your reviews (and kudos and bookmarks) are my favorite gift. Wishing you all a wonderful holiday season!


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